Family life of the Royal Creche is difficult for many people to understand, butI shall try to give you a capsule view of it. My father had only one realfriend, I think. That was Count Hasimir Fenring, the genetic-eunuch and one ofthe deadliest fighters in the Imperium. The Count, a dapper and ugly little man,brought a new slave-concubine to my father one day and I was dispatched by mymother to spy on the proceedings. All of us spied on my father as a matter ofself-protection. One of the slave-concubines permitted my father under the BeneGesserit-Guild agreement could not, of course, bear a Royal Successor, but theintrigues were constant and oppressive in their similarity. We became adept, mymother and sisters and I, at avoiding subtle instruments of death. It may seem adreadful thing to say, but I 'm not at all sure my father was innocent in allthese attempts. A Royal Family is not like other families. Here was a new slaveconcubine,then, red-haired like my father, willowy and graceful. She had adancer's muscles, and her training obviously had included neuro-enticement. Myfather looked at her for a long time as she postured unclothed before him.Finally he said: "She is too beautiful. We will save her as a gift. " You haveno idea how much consternation this restraint created in the Royal Creche.Subtlety and self-control were, after all, the most deadly threats to us all.-"In My Father's House" by the Princess Irulan

As night falls and the first moon rises Paul and Jessica strike camp and plant a thumper deep within the crevasse they were in and start walking without rythym across the sand towards the opposite rock outcropping where they had seen plants, hoping to meet up with the Fremen. A worm is drawn to the thumper and thrashes at the rocks until it is silenced. Paul stumbles onto drum sand attracting the attention of the worm and they run for the last couple of hundred meters. They huddled in a crack in the rocks while the worm rose from the sand, it's giant mouth questing for them and flooding them with the odor of spice. Finally, the worm leaves at the sound of another thumper. Why someone would want to call a worm is a mystery to them. They find a way marked up the cliff and follow it into a crevasse containing carved steps leading to the top and where the rock slit opened into a basin. It's like a fairyland of plants, it must be a Fremen place. Paul says they should find a place to pitch the tent, tomorrow they can try to find the Fremen. A strange voice says most intruders regret finding the Fremen. The voice tells them not to run, it will only waste their body's moisture. Another voice tells the first to hurry up and get their water, it won't be long before dawn. Paul fears that this time is blind to him, unseen in any vision, and they are trapped between wild Fremen.